


g-g-g-ghosts!

by ihaveamigrane (orphan_account)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bickering, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Ghosts, Inspired by Buzzfeed Unsolved, M/M, Minor Injuries, Ouija Board, Paranormal Investigators, Shenanigans, Sort Of, also i roast mike's physical abilities too often in this, but they're bad at it, grammarly is my beta and i live by that, sorry bud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ihaveamigrane
Summary: “This is a stupid idea.”“It's a great idea.”“What’s the point? We both believe in ghosts.”“So?”“So, I feel like we’re two assholes in black cloaks buying expensive equipment and taking shit way too seriously on TV.”“You just don’t want to admit you’re scared,” Mike said, poking Will’s side.Mike had a point. Will was terrified. “I’m not!”Or: Will and Mike attempt to contact ghosts using a Ouija board. Absolutely nothing goes to plan.
Relationships: Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, can absolutely be read as platonic
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	g-g-g-ghosts!

“This is a stupid idea.”

“It's a _great_ idea.”

“What’s the point? We both believe in ghosts.”

“So?”

“ _So,_ I feel like we’re two assholes in black cloaks buying expensive equipment and taking shit _way too seriously_ on TV.”

Currently, Will and Mike were trekking along a dirt path under the midnight sky. The humid wind rustled tree leaves, and the sound contributed to the eerie atmosphere of the forest. However, if it were the middle of the afternoon, this place would have been much more comforting. 

“You just don’t want to admit you’re scared,” Mike said, poking Will’s side. 

Mike had a point. Will was terrified. “Bullshit I am!”

Sighing, Mike said, “I liked younger Will better. He loved fun, me, and didn’t curse.”

Unable to help himself, Will snickered. He punched Mike’s arm and laughed when Mike feigned anguish over his injury, doubling over and clutching his arm. After Will hauled Mike straight up by grasping his collar, Mike draped his arm over Will’s shoulders and tousled his hair. “Onward, Byers! We’ve got to reach our ghoul-infested destination before sunrise,” Mike exclaimed, dodging Will’s swatting hand. 

“You’re too fired up, Mike,” Will commented, observing the way his friend’s feet marched confidently. “When was the last time you were _this_ excited over something?”

Mike’s face scrunched up in thought. “ _Evil Dead 2_ premiere?”

“What? No, you weren’t _that_ excited.”

“Of course, I was! And, I'll have you know, my excitement was more than justified. That movie was funny as _hell_.”

Solemnly, Will nodded. “It was. Nevermind, I guess you were right.”

Mike swung his flashlight to shine it in Will’s eyes. Choosing to ignore Will’s choleric cry, he asked, “what about you then, Byers? Surely you’re excited to do this since you’re out here with me.”

“Against all the odds.”

“Hey! Look-” Mike pointed his flashlight to the bag Will was holding- “you wouldn’t be carrying that if you didn’t want to be here.”

“You forced me to!”

“I’m on light duty! I can’t do every-“ Mike stopped walking, and his eyes grew wide in realization. “Oh my god,” he said suddenly, turning to look at Will’s face. Will was now acutely aware of his friend’s proximity, whose arm was still draped around his shoulders. 

Will blinked, surprised at the change in Mike’s tone. Carefully, he said, “what?” 

“You’re genuinely scared.”

_Fuck._ “No I’m not?” Will said that in a way that was more of a question than a statement. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? I bet you good money that I’m even more fuckin’ terrified than you are.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course! Why do you think I brought a flashlight with us?”

“Uh,” Will guessed, “for basic safety reasons?” 

Mike grinned. “That and because I need reassurance that no ghosts will try to possess you or me.” 

Despite how terrifying that image was, Will smiled as Mike squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. He then cleared his throat and looked down at the bag in his hands. “Uh, speaking of possession. Carrying this Ouija board is seriously creeping me out. Wanna switch duties? I don’t mind carrying the flashlight for a bit.”

Wordlessly, Mike held out his hand, and Will passed the bag to him. Peering into it, Mike murmured, “I see what you mean, but we’re almost there anyway.”

‘There’ was a secluded switching yard located in the outskirts of the forest. The Party had stumbled upon this yard entirely by accident, thanks to an absurd fight between Dustin and Lucas and the rest of them being forced to find the two once they'd run off. To quote Max, the switching yard was “super fucking creepy!”, and the hundreds of articles they’ve found of the place at the library claiming many have died there also didn’t help. 

Mike was right about being close to the yard. They soon reached a worn chain link fence, and Will could see the silhouettes of numerous boxcars. Involuntarily, he shivered. 

“Here, take this for a sec,” Mike said. Will took the bag (which was probably possessed by demons - Will looked at it with suspicion) and watched Mike attempt to crawl through a small hole in the fence. 

“Oh my god,” Will giggled. “You suck at this.” 

“Listen-” Mike bit out, clothes momentarily getting stuck on the stray wire. “I’m an _expert_ at this.”

“Yeah, six years ago, maybe.”

“I can still do it!” Mike retaliated. Eventually, after struggling some more, Mike managed to crawl through the fence to the other side. “See? Not a scratch on me.” 

Raising an eyebrow and biting his cheek to hide a smile, Will said, “surprisingly.” 

Mike rolled his eyes but grinned, teeth glittering in the shadows. “Eh, just get over here. Pass me that, would you?” 

He passed the flimsy paper bag to Mike and got on his knees, wincing at the sharp pebbles digging into his exposed knees. Crawling carefully, Will managed to get through to the other side of the fencing, albeit more easily than Mike. He took the hand Mike offered him and was pulled up to his feet. 

“How’d you not get stuck?” 

Shrugging, Will replied, “I’m shorter than you.”

“Sucks for you!”

“I- shut up.” 

Patting his hand on Will’s shoulder, Mike grinned. “Kidding. Alright-” Mike gestured in front of him to the array of abandoned boxcars- “pick your poison. We have to pick the most active one.” 

How the hell was Will to know how haunted the boxcars were? “Mike, there’s not a sign on each boxcar that says ‘This is Haunted: Discretion is Advised.’ How am I supposed to determine that?” 

_Also,_ Will thought. _I don’t want to pick any of them. They’re_ really _creepy and probably_ super _unsafe._

An inquiring sound came from Will’s left. “Then let’s pick the one that looks the least broken down. I don’t want to get tetanus.” 

_Did he read my mind or something?_ Will narrowed his eyes at Mike. 

Eventually, after some more bickering over which boxcar looked the least infectious, they decided upon a small maroon box with the words CANADIAN NATIONALemblazoned on the side in cracking yellow paint. 

“Canada?” Mike wondered. “What’s a thing from Canada doing here?” 

“I don’t really know,” Will grunted, catching a rusty grab-handle and pulling himself up and slipping through the open sliding slide door. “But it’s Canada, so I think this boxcar is sterile enough.” 

Once the two made it into the box, they critically observed the flooring. Some dead cockroaches and stray leaves were littering it, but other than that, there was no sign of anything that could kill them. Mike sat down, cross-legged, and carefully took the Ouija board out of the bag. Will quickly followed suit, sitting down and wincing at the dirt smearing onto his exposed thigh. “I should have worn pants,” he murmured miserably to himself. 

“Got the lighter?” Mike was now setting up a few candles. 

Wordlessly, Will searched his pocket and fished out the lighter, handing it to his friend. 

The soft sound of the rasp of the lighter filled the boxcar, and Mike’s face suddenly lit up a dull orange. He lit the candles, and once he finished, he held out his hands. _Huh?_ Will frowned. 

Sensing his confusion, Mike said, “Will, we’ve got to do a séance first.”

“I- don’t think that’s how that works. Can’t we just put our hands on the planchette and ask if there’s anyone here?” 

“It may not work if we do that!” 

“Why not?”

“We have to maximize the experience,” Mike said and waved his hands expectantly. Will rolled his eyes in defeat and murmured indistinctly, taking Mike’s hands with his own. 

Mike cleared his throat. “Alright, uh. Spirits of this Canadian boxcar, we’re here to communicate with you. 

“Y-yeah.”

“So,” Mike continued, “we are pretty welcoming people. And we have nothing but good intentions, I should say.”

“Agreed.” 

“We have this board here. You sort of move this planchette around, like so.” Mike let go of Will’s left hand and moved the planchette back and forth over the letters. “Wanna spell something out as an example, Will?”

“Sure.” Will used his free hand to spell out H-E-L-L-O. 

Mike dropped both his hands to his side and said, “so that’s pretty cool. Y’all can use that to communicate.”

Wiping his now sweaty hands on his shorts, Will nodded. 

Mike directed his attention to Will. “I think it’s okay to start now. I can ask the questions if you want.” 

His heart leaped, but to Will’s surprise, it wasn’t entirely of fear. He was kind of _excited_ now. He nodded and set his slightly trembling fingers on the planchette, and Mike did the same. 

“Is there anyone here with us right now?” 

Silence. All that was heard was the rattling of nearby boxcars due to the strong wind. Then the planchette shifted slightly to the left, and Will’s breath hitched. “Was that you, Mike?” Will asked, and Mike shook his head fervently. 

“W-was that something? Or someone?” 

More silence. The two stared at the board, heads light as they held their breaths. All of a sudden, a loud _clang_ came from behind them, and Will nearly screamed. 

“ _Christ!”_ Mike gasped, and he scrambled to look out the boxcar to see if he could find the sound's source. “What the hell was that?”

Will shook his head in panic. “I hope that question was rhetorical, because _how am I supposed to know?”_

“I can’t see anyone out here.”

“They could be hiding somewhere!” 

“Or maybe we can’t see them because it’s a ghost,” Mike wondered. 

Will covered his eyes with his hands. “Fuck ghosts! What if there's a serial killer out there?”

“In Hawkins?” 

“We’re totally going to die.” 

“We won’t,” Mike replied. “But as much as this bums me out, we should probably leave soon just in case.”

“Leaving now sounds pretty good.” 

“But we just got here! Let’s just ask it one more question and say goodbye. It’ll be quick, I promise.” 

Will bit his lip and exhaled forcefully through his nose. “Fine. Just don’t cry to me when we die.” 

Mike laughed, albeit uneasily. He and Will replaced their fingers on the planchette. “If there _is_ anyone here, what’s your name?” 

“...”

“...”

“ _What are you boys doing here?_ ”

Will and Mike froze, blood draining from their faces. Slowly, they turned their heads. At the entrance of the Canadian boxcar stood a gray-bearded man whose eyes were sullen and face was leathery and raw-looking. His hands were nearly black with dirt, as was his forehead. 

They gaped at the man, who didn't make a sound. 

“...”

“ _AAAH!”_ Will and Mike screamed, clambering their way out of the boxcar and running as far and fast as they could from the man.

“ _This was a shitty idea!”_ Mike yelled, nearly tripping as he tried to catch up to Will. 

“ _You’re just now realizing that?”_ Will yelled back over his shoulder, cursing as the toe of his shoe caught on a rail track. When he made it to the fence, he looked back over his shoulder. “Oh my god, Mike! You’re so slow!” 

Mike was still far behind him, and when he finally did catch up, Will didn’t hesitate to quickly crawl through the fence. His foot tapped against the ground in nerves as he waited for Mike to do the same. Will forgot all about waiting and decided to take action as soon as he saw the bearded begin to walk toward them. 

Will’s arms shot out and hoped Mike would get the message. Thankfully, Mike did, and he grasped Will’s forearms and let himself be pulled. 

“Alright, _let’s go_ ,” Will shouted, and took off in the direction of his house. 

As they ran (Will having to slow down a bit for Mike so he wouldn't outrun him), the absurdity of the situation hit them like a pile of bricks. Involuntarily, Will began to cackle wildly, adrenaline pulsing everywhere. “Wuh-w-we forgot the-” he could barely speak through his laughter- “the Ouija b-board!” 

Behind him, Mike hollered, “shit! I paid good money for that!” Like a chain reaction, Mike too began laughing, and soon both of them were breaking the silence of nature with their joyous howls. 

* * *

“S _hh,_ you’ve got to be quiet!” 

“I _am_ quiet,” Mike whispered. “I- _ow._ ”

“Did you just run into the fucking wall?”

“It’s dark!”

“It’s not going to be in five seconds,” Will promised, and turned the doorknob to his room. He then felt around for the light switch and flipped it. Light flooded the room, and Mike and Will collectively sighed in relief. Mike immediately made his way to Will’s bed and promptly flopped down onto it. He rolled up his jacket sleeve and winced at the blood streaked across his pale skin.

Will’s eyes went wide, and he walked over to his friend to inspect his arm. “Shit, you got cut?”

“Yeah,” Mike said, gritting his teeth. “I’m fine. Just stings.”

“Hold on,” Will replied, setting Mike’s injured arm carefully on the bed and running to the bathroom. Finding the first aid kit, he ran back to his room, where Mike sat observing his wound miserably. Silently, Will opened the kit and took out some alcohol wipes. 

“This is so stupid. The only injury I got wasn’t even from a ghost,” Mike murmured, and winced as Will cleaned his wound. 

Will squeezed Mike’s knee as an apology and continued tending the injury. “What even happened?”

Mike shrugged. “I probably got it from the fence as you pulled me out.” 

“Sorry about that.”

“Who even was that? He was really creepy.”

“Now that I think about it, probably a homeless guy.”

“A- oh my god, you’re right.” Mike’s face flushed, and he grinned. “We overreacted for nothing.”

“Who knows,” Will mused, wrapping his friend’s arm in a bandage, “he may have wanted to kill us anyway. Speaking of which…”

“Uh-oh.”

“I believe you have something to say to me, Michael.” 

Mike grumbled and looked away, but his grin didn’t fade. Will looked up at him expectantly. 

“William Byers, you were right, and I was wrong.”

Will’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “There you go.” 

**Author's Note:**

> as nerdy as they are, they're idiots.  
> anyway this is just a fun lil thing to get back into the groove of writing  
> tumblr - ihaveamigrane


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